Creep
by Kiraya
Summary: Seto x Yami. I don't belong here.


**CREEP** by Kiraya

**Disclaimer:** The only Yuugiou I own is 195 episodes of Hong Kong subs and about 2000 cards, sorry :P

**Warnings:** Ummm... boys kissing. OMGcoveryoureyesrunaway.

--

Every time he turned around, Mutou Yuugi found another way to throw him off balance.

The invitation had come as quite a surprise to one Kaiba Seto, despite the fact that the smaller duelist was one of the few people on the list of those he accepted personal mail from — "know your enemy" and all that. Still, he'd never actually expected anything, much less the bright, cheerful invite he'd received.

He had no idea how it'd happened, but here he was at Yuugi's eighteenth birthday party, sitting off to one side as he watched Yuugi-tachi talking and laughing and dancing and having a good time.

He knew it'd be like this; why had he bothered coming?

His gaze drifted to one corner, where he could almost see the insubstantial form of mou hitori no Yuugi, if he squinted hard enough. The nameless pharaoh leaned against the wall, never far from where his aibou danced in Jounouchi's arms. Thankfully, said bonkotsu had left him alone, as had his boyfriend, who knew Kaiba could not be easily coaxed into participating in social activities, that even this was a big step.

Noting the direction of the billionaire's icy stare, still focused on that seemingly unoccupied wall space, Yuugi cast a startled glance at him.

Their eyes met, and Seto looked calmly across the room into those amethyst orbs for a few tense moments before returning to his observation of the misty King of Games.

What must **he** be feeling, unable to celebrate this day with his other self, to interact with the people around him without leaving Yuugi out of it? Not having a name, a family, anything to call his that wasn't already his aibou's? Being both nobody and no body when he had once been so much had to, on some deep level, sting horribly.

Suddenly the atmosphere of the room was all too stifling. Rising to his feet, he abruptly left the spmall apartment, going out through the darkened game shop — Mutou Sugoroku wanted, too, to celebrate with his grandson, not that it wasn't already past closing — and stepping out into the warm June night.

He took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh as he blinked away the moisture that clung to his lashes, swallowed the inexplicable lump in his throat. A cool breeze ruffled his hair as he stood for a few moments, then beginning to walk away.

A slender hand fell upon his shoulder, and a husky voice breathed, "Kaiba Seto..."

He froze, turning to see his rival in the flesh — well, Yuugi's, anyway.

The dark one was so different from his other self... his hair wilder, his lashes longer, his violet eyes darker — and full of understanding, a sort of synchronous sympathy. The same sense of not-quite belonging that he felt filled those dark depths, the light from the nearly-full moon suffusing his face with a soft glow...

He took hold of the other's wrist. _No man is an island..._

His eyes, staring at nothing, hardened. _He is my **rival**, nothing less, nothing more._

He lifted that dextrous hand to hover, open, before his face. _He is a kindred spirit..._

He shook his head slightly. _"Spirit" is all he is. I must not show weakness, especially to **him**..._

He was unable to stop himself from tenderly pressing his lips to the other's soft palm.

The former pharaoh's eyes darkened as his gaze softened — and then the next thing he knew, slender arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.

The other's lips were firm and soft and sweet and insistent all at once, and he could not help responding. They explored one another's mouths feverishly, each clinging to the other like a drowning man to a liferaft, as if this moment was the last they would ever share.

As much as neither wished to admit it, it probably was.

When they finally broke for air, panting, the dark one buried his face in Seto's chest, nuzzling close. The brunet, feeling things he could never describe, cupped the back of the other's head, gently running his fingers through his hair.

The King of Games finally looked up into Seto's face, his eyes glistening. "Thank you," he whispered.

Seto nodded wordlessly as they separated, taking hold of the other's hand and squeezing it gently.

Dragging their feet, they made their way back inside, stopping just outside the party. "I have to go..." the nameless pharaoh murmured reluctantly.

Seto, not trusting his voice, nodded again in understanding. His hand rose of its own accord to stroke the other's cheek with slender fingers.

The dark one leaned into the caress, closing his eyes, before pulling away with a sigh.

Kaiba bent to tenderly claim the spirit's lips with his own, and then averted his gaze as Yuugi took over.

"Anou..." The little duelist was puzzled by the unshed tears that filled his eyes, and those in the billionaire's... which wouldn't quite meet his. "Is everything all right, Kaiba-kun?"

"No," Seto responded bluntly. "I have to go," he added, not feeling inclined to discuss it with the smaller man.

"...Aa," came the reply after a long silence. "Oyasumi, Kaiba-kun."

The tall duelist held his gaze for so long that it began to make Yuugi uncomfortable. He started when the other finally spoke. "Oyasumi, Yuugi... mou hitori no Yuugi." With that, the billionaire turned and swept out into the night.

And for the rest of the party, Yuugi wondered at the sudden reticence of his aibou, who'd shut himself away in his soul room... and at Kaiba's strange behaviour.

_Mou hitori no boku...?_ he ventured much later, after the guests had left and he and 'Jii-chan and Jounouchi had gone to bed. Perhaps the former pharaoh would be willing to talk now...

But the mindlink remained cold and dead.

--

owari


End file.
